


living in a cellophane house

by daisuga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: FOR THE IWAOI WEEK IN ADVANCE WOO, M/M, sorry i am so sorry, unbeta'd and unforgivable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisuga/pseuds/daisuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows everything like it's the back of his hand. And yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	living in a cellophane house

_she had a face straight out a magazine  
_

_god only knows but you'll never leave her_

 

 

It's like an old VHS tape that he memorized; a game that he watched enough to know every movement of every player straight until the end.  Like an amazing game that he can't stop watching, even when he knows how it'll end, what move will finish it, who will be the one laying down the finishing blow.

Only, he's in it.

The familiar scent envelops him--fading cologne he's always acutely aware of, mixed in with sweat. It's warm under the covers, and in front of him is a sight that he's familiar too as well. Everything about this is--he knows everything like the back of his hand, every detail burnt in his subconscious. He's been in this position a lot of times, been in this place more than that. He had made memories in here, countless of them, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, most of them smiling. Iwaizumi's room is dark, and his broad, strong back pans out in front of him. He lifts a hand to touch him, palm flat over the place in the middle of his back, and for a moment, he can feel the beats of his heart. Soft. Reassuring.

This, too, is something familiar. 

"I love you, Iwa-chan," is what he says, per usual. And Iwaizumi will always ignore him (because he's already fast asleep) or turns around to hold him, tells him to go to sleep. He'll laugh and move closer. As always. 

But when a voice that vibrates through its owner and into his hands replied, saying _"I love you, too"_ , he feels his stomach drop and his heart jumps into his throat, scared and desperate, and it's sickening how familiar he is to this feeling as well, but always forgets about it, being lost in the others that are more warm and joyful. He can feel a scream threatening to go out of his mouth, before everything ends.

 

He wakes up with a start, eyes wide, panting and shaking. He covers his face with his hands and closes his eyes.

_Alone._

 

He knows everything like the back of his hands, but he still can't accept that Iwaizumi's gone.

 

 

_It's like my heart can't be tamed_

_I fall in love every day_

_and I feel like a fool_

 

Oikawa has always been a strong presence.

A strong, relentless whirlwind that leaves a mess after its wake, never staying in one place for too long. Moreover, he shines brightly, too high up there for Iwaizumi, wings taking him somewhere where Iwaizumi can never fully follow him. Wings that can fly him off to someplace better, even, and yet, he stays with him.

If it wasn't for Iwaizumi, Oikawa would've been Ushijima's setter, he thinks, invincible and strong, mighty and indestructible.

But Oikawa is unpredictable as he is charming, following Iwaizumi, staying with him for as long as he can, setting for him. Tied physically and mentally, they said, and Iwaizumi can just laugh, because no, he's not going to be the one tying _the_ Oikawa down, not when he's nothing without him, not when Iwaizumi is just plain without Oikawa, without his setting, without volleyball. He always drags him down, was what's true. He doesn't deserve him at all. 

But he's only as selfish as Oikawa.

He wants him--loves him, and he keeps him despite all the acknowledgement of his flaws and Oikawa's greatness. _I'm horrible_ , he thinks, but he knows that someday Oikawa will leave him, and he'll just go try and savor it all. He memorizes the way Oikawa flashes his real smiles. The way he murmurs "I love you" at night. The way he says his name, saying, _Iwa chan, are we going home? Are you done now? Just five minutes more, Iwa-chan._

_Iwa-chan, I love you too._

 

Because before that, Oikawa had been someone else's; before him, girls had seen this, heard this, and there would be more that will know after he gets these moments, because he won't be enough, and even though it hurts, he knows that. He's enough as a best friend, he's enough as the childhood friend.

But he'll never be enough, never be enough to tie down Oikawa, to be the one that will make Oikawa feel like he can live outside volleyball (not that he needs to), to make Oikawa feel like he's already invincible, that it's okay to rest, it's okay to lay down your weary bones and love and be loved and be vulnerable--

 _No_ , he thought, _it's not going to be me._

 

 

_because I'm living in a house with just three walls,_

_so I'm always getting recognized._

 

Iwaizumi is his lifeline.

He's real and honest and he's just a constant that Oikawa got used to--a constant that he'll fight for just so he can keep it, forever, unyielding, unchanging. He's a reality, he thought, in and outside the court. He's Oikawa's pillar, Oikawa's foundation that he can't afford to lose. He's usually the only piece of reality that Oikawa grips and holds on to the moment he's too lost, too gone, too tired in trying do hard to be everything that everyone believes him to be. Too tired to be the perfect kid that is not a genius.

With Iwaizumi, he can be everything.

He can be anything. Iwaizumi never expects; he only handles, only fixes him up the moment he crash against the floor, imperfections cracking him. Because Iwaizumi himself is imperfection, but at the same time, he is.

An afterimage of perfection.

An afterimage that Oikawa loves collecting--loves imprinting in his memory bank, because it's all that he wanted, _he_ 's all that OIkawa wanted. Because Iwa-chan is always going to be Iwa-chan, strong and resilient and beside Oikawa, holding him up when he's too stupid to stay strong, crying with him and laughing with him.

Because he loves Iwaizumi too much, maybe, too much for his own good that he's only lucky that he can tear his eyes away when he plays in a game and not miss everything, too lucky to not stay there, admiring his best friend, his lover, his almost everything. And he swore that he'll never leave him, never leave this, because this is a home that he built, with Iwaizumi, in Iwaizumi.

Oikawa used to want everything else, used to want the world, but with the thought of Iwaizumi being home, he's already more than contented.

 

 

_the sun was always in her eyes_

_she didn't even see me_

 

 _"You're my world, you know,"_ was what Oikawa said once, but he saw the galaxy in his eyes, and what's a world to the galaxy?

But he knows what it means, and he should be scared, really, but Iwaizumi is just happy, happy that Oikawa can see him, can love him that much, can love him just as much as Iwaizumi does. Because galaxies break, anyways, and he wants to build him an empire that forgets to collapse. He wants to give him everything he can, because Oikawa deserves it, even if he's a asshole sometimes, even if he was an asshole. 

He dimly wonders, a bit scared. if this is what love is--being hopelessly devoted to someone, letting their selfishness slide off and still accept them. Looking over the flaws, putting bandages on their scars, seeing past the malicious words that they throw when they start pushing you away. 

Is that what love is? Is it not always what those cheesy films Oikawa brings at Friday night that they fall asleep over? Not always the chasing, the " _I love you_ "s and make-outs in the rain? Is it sometimes the ugly arguements in the gym because your lover won't give himself a break? Is it sometimes then ugly crying until three am because you just want to hold them? Is it?

Is it that, or is it just both of them, holding each other's arms tight and never letting go?

Is this even healthy, he thinks. Is it even healthy to love someone so much that you can feel them on your fingertips and in every breath you exhale? That you can feel their being pulsing through you? Because Oikawa is home, and Oikawa is his world, as well, and much much more than that. 

He swore he won't leave, too. And yet.

 

 

_but that girl had so much love_

_she'd wanna kiss you all the time_

 

They had two major arguements that Oikawa will never forget.

The first one was when Iwaizumi got upset with him, because he always steals away those girls (and boys, but Oikawa need not to reveal that) that seems to be interested in him, and he's just  _exhausted_ and depressed and tired that he ended up yelling at Oikawa in his front porch, the February breeze too cold for the both of them, winter going down a bit too hard for Oikawa to see clearly, but he saw red, and his face is warm, because he's ashamed and angry at himself, and he just wants to hold Iwaizumi. He's not supposed to be this mad--not at him, and he just wants Iwaizumi to hold him, to never look at anyone else, to never be too close to others--

He late found himself sneaking in Iwaizumi's room, a skill that's been honed ever since they were 10 and sneaking out to see the fireworks that their parents never let them see because of the time. He murmured apologies, wedging himself against Iwaizumi's warm back, covers on them, _I'm sorry, Iwa-chan, I'm  sorry_.

He's sobbing when Iwaizumi said, "Why?"

And he swallowed a lump stuck in his throat.

"Because I don't want you to leave me. You're all that I have. Please don't leave me. I don't know what I'll do without you, I don't--" at this point, he's just full on babbling, hands against his face, tears falling down. Breathing heavily, he struggled to continue speaking, because he's losing him, he's losing Iwaizumi and he can't have that, not now, not ever. "And I just--Hajime--"

"Okay," Iwaizumi turned around already, pulling at him and holding him tight against his chest, murmuring against Oikawa's hair. "okay, okay. Calm down."

"And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you--"

"It's--" He heard an inhale, then a sigh, then a kiss being pressed into his temples. "It's okay. Let's just. Go to sleep."

Oikawa just nodded, moving closer to Iwaizumi, spent from crying and letting that out. 

The night was silent and the snow just continued to fall outside Iwaizumi's window.

 

 

_but if the silence takes you_

_then I hope it takes me too_

 

The second, he can't remember. And he would rather not. 

All he remembers is that there were a lot of shouting, and yelling, and he was angry, just mad and childish like how he is, and he won't let Iwaizumi walk into the house. They're standing on the pavement, him between Iwaizumi and the gate, and they're still talking, he's still irritated, and Iwaizumi just looked like he was tired; the whole week was shit, he remembers that much. And if he can go back, he would've just waited for the next day, or at least later on, where they would be safe in their rooms. Maybe he can sneak out into his room again.

There's a lot of things that he would've done, a lot of things that he would've chose instead, now, but.

He was screaming, up until the very last moment that he did it. He pushed Iwaizumi, upset and crying, and Iwaizumi is now in the middle of the road.

There was a bright light, and he only watched in horror and desperation, too slow to stop it, too slow to do anything but cry out his name.

There was red  _everywhere_ , and it was blurry, and he was desperate and he was a mess, that's all that he remembers; running into him, knees giving out, both of their breathing being chopped up.

But for different reasons.

 

 

_when you feel embarrassed then i'll be your pride_

 

_when you need directions then i'll be the guide_

  
_for all time._

 

_for all time._

 

There's a flashback of Iwaizumi smelling like home, talking about being with him even after college. Musing about apartments, and Oikawa will laugh. 

_I'm okay with anything as long as I'm with you._

He felt so loved, by the hands that has been holding his ever since he was eight. Hands that has spiking his tosses. Hands that has been over his skin. Hands that's been a great source of reassurance; a constant that never disappeared, through all the fame and loss and break-ups. Whose owner had loved him immensely, more than he would ever comprehend. Whose owner had given him more than what he could ever ask for. 

Hands that he held from the warmest to the coldest. From the strongest it had been to the most lifeless.

He knows that pair like the back of his hands. And yet. 

 

_you disappeared with the same speed_

_the idealistic things i believed_

_the optimist died inside of me_

 

There had been a countless of reassurance:

  1. "It's not your fault."
  2. "It was an accident."
  3. "It's not like you meant it."
  4. "It was not your fault."
  5. "It was not your fault."
  6. "If Iwaizumi was here, he would've forgiven you."



He was scared of them all.

 

 

"What happened to you? Where is the old Oikawa?"

The question vibrated through him--in him, where he is empty and floating and gone, just gone, and he can't even comprehend it. Kageyama was furious, but when he saw that he's not making any progress, either, he left. Now Oikawa is just curled up on his bed, wrist broken, eyes shut. There's just a lot of things that does not make sense, things that he doesn't care about now. Like Volleyball. Like life.

He covered his ears, the silence deafening him.

_Where is the old Oikawa?_

"I don't know," He said outloud, voice strangled and strained and a sob coming out.

 

 

"I don't know."

**Author's Note:**

> please stop me from writing all these deathfics


End file.
